Chaos

Prologue : The Outsider

The sun had long fallen into the horizon, down the valleys of Damnation. Droplets of water strike down towards the city of verum like knives, stabbing the land and splattering on impact in red from the reflection of flickering lantern lights, giving a futile effort of illuminating the dark.

One could pick up the smell of the city grounds from miles away. Not the earthy aroma you usually get after it rains, nor the scent of books that fill your lungs as soon as you enter a library, but an ashy smell of burnt wood mixed with water, strong reek of gasoline spilt over, and a distinct coppery stench of blood.

Cold air surrounded the city, not a hint of warmness savored at the least. Apart from the pit-a-pat from the rain, everything was quiet. Just occasional rumbles of the thunder as if the sky is grieving, and rain accompanied by gloomy clouds, lazily dwelling on the night sky.

Too peaceful.

Too silent.

Too eerie.

Darkness had already reigned with no chance for redemption.

On the tallest tower present, four stone statues stand on the roof, each facing a cardinal point. A silhouette of a person can be seen sitting against the sculpture facing West, a leg dangling off the roof. Pitch black hair, almost blending into the night if not for the faint glow of the moon, is gently caressed by the night breeze, curtaining the face beneath. Dull eyes, yet with a bright color of amethyst shine in the absence of light, looking down upon the dark of night with the aura of superiority.

The city of verum was never the lively city where one would see children running around giggling, or where the cheers of festivals held throughout the year could be heard.

It was always this way. Silent as if the people walking the streets were the death. Even if it was the brightest day of summer, it seems as if the people themselves were blocking out the light, burying themselves into the darkness. Heads hang low, eyes carrying hatred, envy, malice.

Once a person sets foot in the city, a whole new perspective of the world opens up to them. Needless to say, not in a good way. Crimes occur everyday at any hour. Whenever. Wherever and whatever kind of crime anyone could possibly think of.

The true instincts of humans appear, when there is no law, nor order binding their actions. The deepest, darkest thoughts are brought into play even by the purest of people. Humanity, an illusion. The only thing upholding this world is the chains limiting the chaos, the superior, and the inferior.

It would've been guessed by now, that this is...... or rather, this was a place where the wanted gather. However, no one can tell if this is a place of salvation for the sinners, or a punishment in disguise.

Amidst the rain, a yellow lantern lit faintly, moving towards the city at a slow pace. The small light continuing its journey, heading in the direction of the city center abruptly halted in front of a wooden door. The figure behind the lantern knocked on the door thrice and retracts their hand, waiting patiently.

One would've shouted to see if someone was present in normal circumstances. Verum however, is a special case. Making a loud noise in the dead silent is the same as asking for your execution. In every crook and corner lay creatures with ill intents.

The person put their hand on the door knob and turned it with uncertainty and pushed. The door creaks open to his surprise as he stealthily slips inside. Holding the lantern out, their eyes swept the interior to see a normal wooden house and a staircase at the end, leading to the second floor. Relaxing his tensed shoulders, he took a step forward to stop again at a soft object blocking his path.

The man lowered the lantern towards the floor and squinted his eyes to see what he had tripped onto. His breath hitched and his eyes widen as he stands upon a puddle of red seeping out from the neck of a dead body.

Everything was in place apart from the corpse. Not a single blood stain on the walls and not a splatter or drop on the floor except for the puddle near the corpse.

It was definitely too strange for the doing of the residents. A murder is no doubt normal here. But ruthless s*******r was more of their style. This was too neat. One clean cut. A perfect horizontal across the middle of the victim's neck, to the side. The victim probably wouldn't even know they had passed. Merciless, yet not in an inhumane way.

Clenching his teeth, the man knelt down to close the eyes of the body. It's still warm. The person had been murdered not too long ago. He then ran out, cautiously opening each door to see the same sight in every house. A single pool of blood for a person, one neat cut on each victim's neck, not a single speck of dust out of place.

He gave up, upon searching several houses, his legs giving out from underneath. The yellow light of his lamp, mixing in with the red lights engulfing the city in a blood bath, gradually dims as it fades away.

A bell dong from the tallest tower disrupting a flock of ravens to fly across the sky. This had snapped the man's attention away from his thoughts. The lamp he held was discarded as he scrambled up with great effort to run to the source of the sound with full speed.

He reached the top, breathing heavily, not long after the fourth chime rang. The sight from above seems blurry as if looking through the breath he exhaled, that had turned to fog from the cold. Turning to the east, a chill runs down the back of his spine and he spins around to face the direction he had turned his back on.

A figure stands tall atop the head of a gargoyle. Judging from the physique, it's a girl with a firm built, no taller than 5 foot and a half. The girl must've been really light or is highly skilled for the worn down and cracked stone statue to uphold her weight. Something told the man it was undoubtedly the latter.

He narrowed his eyes and changed his stance to defense. The cloak covering the girl glides with the wind with grace while the hood remains unaffected, covering her facial features. She tilted her head slightly to the side for the moonlight to reflect off her eyes.

The man utters a single word, the same moment flames erupted and ravaged the whole city as the girl lets herself fall backwards, off the tower into the fiery sea of red.

"Hellhounds"